


Scenario 7

by rideswraptors



Series: Kastle Scenarios [7]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, see first work for warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 21:15:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16227476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rideswraptors/pseuds/rideswraptors
Summary: Frank doesn’t like the plan. Karen tries to make him feel better.





	Scenario 7

Frank was in a mood. Well, most people would probably think that Frank was always in some kind of mood. He wasn’t. Not with Karen. Did he have off days? Or course, that was to be expected, but ever since he’d taken down Rawlins and finally got Russo locked away, Frank had found some peace. On his own and with Karen. 

 

But he was definitely in a mood right in that moment. Part of it was Karen’s fault, most of it was Matt’s fault, and a good, solid chunk of it was bound up in Frank’s ego. The fool was under the impression that his only use to her was keeping her safe. That needed to be corrected.

 

But Karen couldn’t do that until everyone left. 

The Defenders, god love ‘em, had somehow commandeered her apartment as their temporary headquarters for a mission Matt had gotten her involved with. She’d tracked down a money launderer connected with the Russian mob who had framed one of Matt’s clients for several murders. Somehow, Karen had been identified and targeted. Frank was  _ pissed _ . 

 

So they had been taking turns patrolling her neighborhood and Frank never let her out of his sight. That meant she’d been working from home quite a bit. Ellison was not thrilled, but the death threats had been fairly...overt. Karen’s primary goal was to keep Frank from killing too many people. So if he was always with her, then the only people he could kill were her and whoever was trying to kill her. One of those things definitely wouldn’t happen and the other was improbable, so she was sticking with her plan. 

 

It didn’t help her in her current situation, though. Jessica was drinking her way through her liquor cabinet. Trish, Danny, Colleen were loudly debating logistics in full gear in her living room while Claire tried to clean and wrap Trish’s hands. Matt and Luke were bickering about their “plan,” which Karen had yet to hear, with David Lieberman, who had volunteered his services. And Frank, unfortunately, was holed up in their bedroom, field stripping and cleaning his weapons. He was glowering and cleaning; neither one of those things were ever good for Karen’s sanity. 

 

With a short huff, she swiped a bottle from Jessica’s hands, snapped at Trish to keep it down and sit still, told David to can it until Matt and Luke made a decision, and then went into her room, shutting the door behind her. As expected, Frank did not react to her sudden invasion of his space. As he liked to remind her, he was  _ always _ paying attention to her. 

 

“You’re sulking.”

 

“Am not.” He snapped a pin back in place. “M’cleaning.” 

 

“Sulk cleaning. You cleaned everything last week.” 

 

“M’doin it again.”

 

“Frank,” she whined, sitting on their bed, exasperated. 

 

“Ka-ren,” he echoed with too much sass for words. He didn’t even bother looking up at her, just sat there, unthinkingly cleaning. 

 

“I know you’re upset--”

 

“Oh, I am beyond  _ upset _ . I was  _ upset _ when he asked you for help. I was  _ upset _ that he didn’t know what he was sending you into. I was  _ upset _ when we found out it was fucking Russians.” With every  _ upset _ out of his mouth, he snapped another part into place and latched it. For emphasis, obviously, she thought with an eye roll. “I was  _ upset _ when you got made. But right now? Right now I’m enraged. Because yet again, you’re getting dragged into his bullshit because of his recklessness and negligence.”

 

“I am not helpless, Frank,” she snapped bitterly. His eyes flashed dangerously.

 

“Don’t give me that shit. You know I hate it when you do that.” 

 

“I don’t need you trying to run my life. I said yes to Matt when he asked, I chased those leads down willingly.” 

 

Frank slapped a rifle to the floor. “Leads  _ Lieberman _ could have run down! Not you! But does he think? No! He uses you like fucking bait to drag scumbags into the open and it  _ pisses me off _ , Karen!” 

 

She noticed that the volume had dropped in the other room. Just friggin great. She ran a hand through her hair and decided she didn’t give a fuck. She slid off the bed, deftly moving weapons out of her way to crawling into Frank’s lap. She even managed to get him to relinquish his Beretta for her to set aside. He did it with an eye roll, but he did it. Karen smiled and put her arms around his neck, forcing him to look at her. It was only partially successful because his hands were on her ass and his eyes watched her mouth, but it was improvement. Some. 

 

“Tell me.” 

 

His nostrils flared. “Not exactly a fan of threats on your life.”

 

“Mmmm, nope, happens too often--”

 

“Serious threats, Karen. Mob threats.” 

 

“Frank Castle, don’t you dare bullshit me.” 

 

He dropped his forehead to hers with a sigh. They had issues, quite a few of them, but Matt was the sorest point between them. Karen constantly tried to reassure him and Frank constantly ignored her very reasonable explanations. She knew it was a battle for him; she’d had Matt on a pedestal from the very beginning. They tended to agree about what was right and wrong, on the best course of action. Frank, with his loss and his fury and his decency, had smashed all of that to pieces; he just couldn’t seem to understand that. 

 

“Talk to me, baby,” she whispered, cupping his neck. 

 

“Why do you keep saying yes to him?” She flicked her eyes up to his to find them closed. Frank had eternal war raging inside of him, and he hated for her to see it sometimes. “I mean, why do you keep doing this to me, Kare? Ripping the heart right outta me.” She pressed kisses to his face and cheeks, shushing him. He caught her mouth for a proper kiss, but she knew it wasn’t over. Not yet. 

 

“He’s my friend,” she answered, again, “and he asked for my help. Just like you did.” He shook his head, turning it away from her, only for her to follow and catch his gaze. “And yeah, I’m doing it for different reasons.” She caught under his chin and held. “I love you, you asshole. I’d do anything you asked me. Are you going to ask me to change who I am? Go against everything I know? Did I ask you to do that?” 

 

“ _ Russians _ ,” was his pithy response. She frowned and he relented. “No.” 

 

“Okay, so let’s not go there. Okay?”

 

“Okay,” he agreed softly. She pressed a kiss to his lips, his response instant and loving. 

 

She held his face to hers, “It’s going to be fine.” He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t argue either. So, improvement. “You’re it for me, you know that?” Still didn’t look wholly convinced. “All right, how about this? The next time Matt brings me something, I will bring it to you, and we  _ both _ will decide how to handle it.”

 

He lifted a brow at her. “You’d do that?” 

 

She was nodding before she even really considered it. 

 

“Absolutely.”

 

“What if Red tells you to keep me out of it?”

 

“Screw him,” she answered, brow furrowing. “We’re partners. Package deal. That sometimes includes a former CIA analyst,” she added with a bob of her head. Frank was actually looking at her now, a bit of that darkness receding. There he was. 

 

“Partners, huh?” 

 

“Equals,” she confirmed with a nod. “And I should have told you before I did it. That wasn’t fair of me, and it’s not fair to expect you to jump in and save my ass--”

 

Frank stopped her words with his mouth. Their kiss was slow and deep, a struggle to maintain, a battle they’d both win. It left her breathless and wanting him, but she was acutely aware of her blind best friend listening through the door. She kissed him once more for good measure. He said  _ I love you _ against her lips and skin, dragging his nose and mouth where he went. Frank never failed to make her feel raw and ripped open, right down the middle, right to the core. 

 

They were rudely interrupted by a fist pounding on her bedroom door.

 

“Quit screwing and get out here!” Jessica shouted, “Legal’s here!”  _ Legal _ , meaning Foggy, was there in a purely legal capacity to ensure Karen and Trish didn’t get thrown in jail for forever given what they were about to do. It was easier just to have him on site instead of waiting.

 

Karen sighed and pressed her forehead to Frank’s. 

 

“Let’s go get me a story.” 


End file.
